Chapter 2

The next day, Maya arrived.

She wore a loose floral dress, her baby bump barely showing.

When Beatrice opened the door, the smile on her face looked completely foreign to me.

"Maya, sweetie! Come in, come in! I made some chicken soup for you."

She had never shown that kind of warmth to me. Not once.

I stood by the kitchen door, watching Beatrice place the soup on the table.

Maya sat on the couch, and Leo was leaning against her knee.

"Auntie Maya, when is the baby sister coming out?"

Maya frowned slightly. "It's a baby brother! Soon, sweetie. And then he can play with you, okay?"

"Okay!"

Ethan got home around seven in the evening.

The first thing he did when he walked in wasn't to look at me, nor was it to look at our son.

He looked straight at Maya.

He paused while kicking off his shoes, his lips parting into an involuntary smile.

I had seen that look before, three years ago.

That was the exact way he used to look at me when he was pursuing me.

"Maya's here?" he asked, keeping his voice deliberately casual.

"Yeah, Chloe invited me to stay for a few days," Maya replied, looking up with a sweet smile.

Their eyes locked for a split second.

It was brief.

But I saw it.

Beatrice walked out of the kitchen with a dish. Seeing me standing still, she frowned.

"Chloe, what are you standing there for? Go serve the food."

"Maya is a guest. You can't expect our guest to do the work."

I glanced at Beatrice, took a deep breath, and walked into the kitchen.

As I was plating the food, I heard laughter coming from the living room.

My son was crying out, "Daddy, hold me!" but he got no response.

Instead, Maya said with a mix of pride and mock shyness, "Careful, don't bump into my tummy."

Ethan’s voice was low and teasing. "I know, I'll be careful from now on."

Finding it boring in the living room, Leo ran into the kitchen four or five times.

I ended up putting most of the BBQ ribs onto a plate and letting him eat them right there in the kitchen.

I left only a small bowl of ribs to bring to the dining table.

It was a decent dinner, but Beatrice's eyes widened when she saw the small portion of ribs.

She tapped her fork against the table aggressively. "I bought three pounds of ribs! How is there only this much on the table?"

I didn't look at her as I set down the dishes. "Too much food would just go to waste."

Giving it to them would be a waste.

Beatrice was about to snap, but Maya cut in quickly. "She's right, Beatrice. There are only five of us. Cooking too much is just wasteful."

After she spoke, she winked at me.

As if we were still the best friends we used to be.

My skin crawled, and a wave of goosebumps broke out over my arms.

Beatrice kept quiet, but she still glared at me.

I set the last of the plates down.

Beatrice sat next to Maya, putting food onto her plate.

Ethan sat across from Maya, eating while staring at his phone, though his eyes kept drifting toward her.

I sat in the corner, peeling shrimp for my son.

"Mommy, you eat too," Leo said, placing a rib into my bowl.

"Thanks, sweetie. Mommy will eat."

I stared at the rib in my bowl, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea.

Because the three people sitting across from me were putting on such a pathetic show.

Their acting was so terrible; it felt like they weren't even trying to hide it from me anymore.

They were just waiting for me to lose my mind and confront them.

After dinner, Ethan did something highly unusual. He turned to me and said, "Chloe, why don't you go chat with Maya? I'll do the dishes."

Beatrice immediately chimed in. "Yes, yes! Go sit with Maya. Your husband and I will clean up."

Their sudden kindness made me feel even more disgusted.

In all our years of marriage, when had Ethan ever washed a single dish?

Beatrice had always firmly believed that men belonged outside the kitchen. Even when I was recovering from childbirth, she would make me wash the dishes myself.

I didn't argue. I threw my apron aside and walked over to Maya.

I wanted to see what my dear "best friend" had planned next.

I joined Maya on the balcony.

She leaned back in the lounge chair, rubbing her stomach with a satisfied smile.

"Chloe, what am I going to do? Being pregnant and unmarried... my baby won't have a father."

"He will," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion.

"Really? You think so?" She turned to look at me, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes. You've already chosen one."

She froze.

I looked straight into her eyes, pronouncing every single word clearly. "The house you and Ethan bought... when are you planning to move in?"